


Padfoot's Last Run

by MarieKavanagh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon Compliant, Friendship, Gen, One Shot, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Padfoot's brief taste of freedom, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Soz, enjoy the frustrating twist right at the end with my apologies, non-wolfstar, some nice feels in here man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29908848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieKavanagh/pseuds/MarieKavanagh
Summary: At the end of an exhausting night shift spent carrying out Order business, the one consolation Remus can find in the morning that greets him is the promise of a warm, sunny day ahead. But at the prospect of the one person who truly needs a good dose of sunshine in their life being denied the opportunity to enjoy even this most simple of pleasures, Remus takes matters into his own hands and orchestrates a bid for freedom - if only for a little while.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Padfoot's Last Run

The instant, heavy feeling of gloom which immediately fell upon Remus the moment he entered Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place never ceased to amaze him. It really was remarkable how one house, even one as neglected and dingy as the old Black family stronghold, could possess such a remarkable ability to instantly replace all the cheer of a beautiful summer’s morning such as today’s with an overwhelmingly dark sense of gloom. 

“It’s only me!” Remus called into the empty hallway as he shrugged off his cloak and slung it over the coat stand by the door. “Anyone here?” 

He was met with an eerie silence. He hadn’t expected a reply. It was early Sunday morning, by far the quietest day of the week at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. A day in which most of its members could be granted a brief, sacred respite from their duties and be allowed to retreat to the comfort of their own homes, a far-more-appealing place to spend a summer’s day than the run-down mausoleum of dark magic which Grimmauld Place had long-since become.

And he knew far better than to expect a reply from the house’s single permanent resident. 

Remus trudged wearily up the creaking, wooden staircase, taking care to avoid the mournful gaze of the decapitated house elf heads which lined the walls. He was relieved to find his path mercifully devoid of the single living house elf which inhabited the darkened halls of the house. Kreacher was anything but a pleasant soul at the best of times, but nothing brought out his deepest displeasure than when he was ran into Remus - the half-blood werewolf which dared to walk the sacred halls of the House of Black. In the house elf’s mind, there could be no greater shame, an opinion he was only too happy to share with all that would listen.

Kreacher was the last thing Remus needed after a long night shift.

He let out a deep, weary yawn as he reluctantly passed by the door of the room which had become his bedroom. He’d spent a sleepless night camped out in the bushes behind a large, abandoned property on the outskirts of a far-off village somewhere in the depths of Somerset, a dwelling which the Order were suspicious of as being a potential Death Eater stronghold. Now, as the weakened chimes of a distant, dying grandfather clock somewhere in the house announced the arrival of six o’clock, Remus wanted nothing more than to collapse onto his creaky bed and succumb to the blissful oblivion of sleep. 

But there was something he needed to do first. 

The door of the master bedroom gave a groan of protest as he pushed it open. The overwhelming odour of the room immediately hit Remus full in the face as he stepped over the threshold. It was the stale smell of moulding, old fabric mixed with the sweet, dusky smell of hay. Immediately opposite the entrance of the room sat the grand, carved four-poster bed which had clearly once been the centrepiece of the room. The centre of the bed had collapsed under the weight of the hippogriff who called this room home and had made his nest amidst the broken wooden slats and torn mattress. The straw bedding littered throughout the bed provided an almost laughable contrast to the rich, velvet hangings still clinging determinedly to the overhanging canopy of the bed. 

Remus wrinkled his nose in reaction to the pungent smell, as he always did whenever he ventured into this room. It quickly became overpowering, quickly filling him with the desire to retreat. He struggled to fathom how Sirius could stand to spend as much of his time in this run-down old bedroom as he did. It was a rare occurrence to find him anywhere else in the house.

“I’m back,” said Remus by way of greeting. 

Slumped lazily on the faded, moth-eaten window seat, gazing out at the busy London street below, Sirius did not so much as turn to look at Remus, let alone offer a reply. He was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, signalling to Remus that he hadn’t seen fit to get changed into his pyjamas - or, more likely, that he hadn’t bothered to go to bed at all.

Laying on the floor at his side, the great, feathered head of Buckbeak lay in Sirius’s lap. He let out a slight, sleepy chirp and Sirius’s hand moved to rest on top of the hippogriff’s head, his spindly fingers threaded through the thick feathers.

But still he gave no sign that he knew Remus was even there.

“No news on the Somerset house” said Remus, in an attempt to break the awkward silence which hung throughout the room as thickly as the fug of old smells. “No sign of movement for three days now. Either we were wrong about the Death Eaters being in the area or they’ve cottoned onto us and moved on” 

Still Sirius did not reply. 

Remus’s heart sank. It pained him to see his friend in such a miserable state. All those years Sirius has spent locked away in Azkaban, only to be granted the merest taste of freedom before it was cruelly snatched away from him once again. In many ways, Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was as much a prison as Azkaban. A dingy, run-down old fortress filled with unpleasant memories from which Sirius was forbidden to escape, even for a moment. 

It wasn’t the first time Remus had wished he could free his friend from this, in many ways, equally-as-cruel form of captivity.

He strolled over to join Sirius beside the window. At his feet, Buckbeak twitched lazily in response to the movement. Still, Sirius did not move. 

“It’s going to be a hot one” Remus remarked, peering out of the window down at the grey pavements already baking in the morning sun. Muggles trooped up and down the street in their short sleeves. Even from high above, the cheerful mood of the crowd below on account of the unusually sunny London weather was clear to see. “Almost twenty degrees out there already, I’d say. Makes a nice change from that rain we had last week” 

“How lovely,” Sirius said, finally. His tone was bleak, his displeasure plain to hear. 

Remus bit his tongue. He could have kicked himself. The usual failsafe conversation topic of the weather did not work in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. The dark, cramped halls of the house could so quickly become unbearably stuffy in the warm weather. How thoughtless of him to attempt to remark on their luck of a sunny day to the only person forbidden from enjoying the simple pleasure of heading outside to enjoy it. 

As he looked down at Sirius, the old friend he remembered as one always so full of vim and vigour, his face so pale and drawn from lack of sunlight, his eyes dull and lifeless, Remus felt something inside him snap.

“Come on,” He slapped a hand down on Sirius’s shoulder. Sirius flinched in response, at last looking round at Remus. “You need to get changed into some fresh clothes”

Sirius narrowed his eyes up at Remus, puzzled. 

“Why should I?” he said before turning back to stare out of the window. “It’s not as if I’m going anywhere”

“Yes you are” Remus replied. “We’re going out”

One again, Sirius turned to look at him.

“You what?” 

“I said, we’re going out” Remus repeated determinedly. 

“Have you forgotten the small matter of the fact that I’m all but officially under house arrest?” asked Sirius, shooting Remus a look of offence, as though this was all some kind of cruel joke being made at his expense. “Or has all that wonderful sunshine gone to your head already?” 

“Shut up and do as you’re told” Remus shot back, surprising even himself with the firmness of his voice. What would his teenage self make of him now, barking orders at the once intimidatingly-confident and cocky Sirius Black?

He marched back across the room, shooting his friend a last look before he left. “I’m serious, Padfoot. Meet me in the downstairs hall. And if you’re not there in ten minutes I’ll come and drag you down there myself ” 

Remus could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his foot in its worn-out shoe tapping nervously against the floorboard of the front hall as he considered the seriousness of what he was doing. Sirius was not supposed to leave the house. It was the number one rule, the unbreakable decree which not one member of the Order, no matter how sympathetic of his plight, has been bold enough to suggest. 

And yet, Remus couldn’t help but feel a tug at the corner of his mouth, curving upwards into a smirk at the sudden spark of mischief which had taken root within him and overruled his better judgement. Regardless of all the reasoning behind the rules, despite the potential consequences of their actions, regardless of the fact that a loud voice in his head scolded him for the recklessness of what he was doing, Remus couldn’t help but feel that distant but familiar sense of excitement at the thought of sneaking Sirius out for a little while, the likes of which he had not felt since those long ago days of schoolboy tricks at Hogwarts.

No wonder James and Sirius broke far more rules than they obeyed, he thought to himself.. This could get rather addictive. 

As ordered, ten minutes after Remus had told him to meet him, Sirius arrived in the hallway, wearing a fresh set of robes and an expression of curiosity mingled with suspicion on his weary face. 

“I’m still don’t know if I’m entirely convinced that you’re in your right mind, you know,” he said as he ran his critical gaze up and down Remus’s freshly-donned travelling cloak. 

“That makes two of us,” Remus replied. “But what I do know is that if I have to spend one more day in this house staring at your miserable face, I definitely won’t be”

Sirius gave an amused snort, his expression stopping just sort of a smile. 

“Moody will skin me alive if he finds out about this,” he said.

The thought of being on the receiving end of the wrath of Mad-Eye Moody was indeed a far from pleasant thought. But the moment Remus’s plan had taken form in his mind, he knew that not even the Ministry’s most feared Auror in history was going to stand in his way. 

“I won’t tell if you won't,” Remus replied with a slight smirk.

Sirius looked at him searchingly for a moment, before his dour expression finally gave way to a mischievous grin. It was but a spark of happiness, a tiny glimmer of light in the dark, but compared to the depths of gloom which had consumed Sirius for so long, it seemed to Remus to burn as bright as any fire. 

Returning the smile, Remus silently held out his arm. Sirius took it, and a second later, the pair of them Disapparated from the house. 

* * *

The sun shone bright in the cloudless sky, even at this early hour of the morning. Even the nip of cold in the northern breeze wasn’t strong enough to overwhelm the warmth of the sun's rays. The sharp smell of saltwater stung his nostrils. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore mingled with the cry of the seagulls which flew high overhead. Remus opened his eyes and was briefly awestruck by the beauty of the vast beach which lay before them below the grassy hilltop on which they stood.

He looked to his side and saw Sirius staring out towards the sea, clearly equally as awed by the sight of the sandy beach which stretched out before them, as far as the eye could see. The pair stood high up above the shore atop a grassy hill, one of a seemingly endless expanse of open, empty land which lay bordered by the sea. Not a building could be seen, not a single man-made structure blemishing the greenery besides a single, winding road which snaked its way along the coastline in the distance. 

“Where are we?” Sirius asked, his voice buried muffled beneath the sea breeze which whipped through them. 

“Hunmanby Gap” Remus replied, swallowing hard against the gust of wind which gushed hard against his face. “In Yorkshire” 

The vastness of the beach which stretched out below them was only further intensified by its emptiness. Not a single person walked the sands below, the early morning providing a blissful seclusion to this place of beauty which made it feel almost secret. 

But still, they could never be too careful. 

“You’d better transform,” said Remus. 

Sirius did not need telling twice. No sooner had Remus finished speaking than he had turned to glance to his side, expecting to see the familiar great, black dog sat at his feet. But the spot which his friend had occupied not five seconds ago was now empty. A brief moment of panic shot through Remus, striking him to the core like a knife - but when he looked out towards the beach again, he smiled. 

Padfoot was off, charging down the hill towards the beach at such a speed that Remus had to stifle the urge to call out to him to be careful. The dog, now little more than a black speck in the distance, galloped across the beach towards the surf, kicking up clumps of sand, sending them flying into the air in his wake.

The faint sound of overjoyed barks began to pepper the air as Padfoot ran along the seashore at such a speed that he seemed to almost glide. Remus couldn't help but think, as he watched his friend gallop along the sand, that Sirius possessed really rather remarkable stamina for someone who’d spent so many months shut up within the confines of the cramped rooms and narrow halls of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He found himself struck with the belated realisation that he really ought to have known better than to expect Sirius to take his first taste of freedom in months slowly. Sirius was like a metal coil - the tighter he was wound, the more intensely he would spring.

Remus watched, unable to hold back a snort of amusement as Padfoot leaped high into the air as he charged through the waves which lapped at the shore, chasing after the flock of seagulls which circled above him and snapping playfully at the feet of those which occasionally flew just a tad too low.

It was a good thing they had the beach to themselves, Remus thought to himself as he watched the lone black dog on the empty beach far below him take another determined lunge at his would-be prey. Sirius really was a public menace.

He really should call down to him. He ought to warn him to take it easy, lest an unsuspecting Muggle stumble upon them by surprise and find him bothering the local wildlife. They might find themselves in trouble. They shouldn't draw attention to themselves, scolded the niggling voice of reason lurking in the back of his mind. But Sirius looked so deliriously happy, down there on the sand, so _free_ , that Remus found he hadn’t the slightest desire to listen to reason.

Before too long, Remus began to feel his own weariness starting to take hold of him once more, the aching of his limbs and cotton-like fuzziness of his head having previously been lulled into the background of his awareness by the thrill of their escape from London. Now, as he stood high above the Yorkshire coast, the fact that his body was sorely lacking in a good night’s sleep forced its way to the forefront of his mind once more. He took out his wand and conjured a blanket, spread it out over the grass and sat himself down on the grassy verge. He gazed out to the horizon, to the shining light in the far distance where the sun mingled with the sea, and Remus found himself filled with a curious sense that it was really rather brave and somewhat cruel for anywhere to have the audacity to look so perfectly beautiful in a world which in every day seemed to grow ever more darker than the one before it.

He breathed a deep lungful of the salty sea air, feeling its vigour work its way through him. It surely couldn't be for nothing, he mused to himself as he watched the black dog below leap joyously in and out of the glittering water with the grace of a gazelle, that Muggle doctors of old would prescribe sea air as a remedy for so many ills. 

Suddenly, the sound of far-off voices caught Remus’s attention. Instantly on edge, he whipped his head round toward the noise to see a cluster of Muggles in the distance, laughing as they trudged their way over the hillside towards the main path leading down to the sands below, each bearing the bulging rucksacks which suggest their plans to set up camp for the day. They were far off enough not to have full sight of the beach below and its single occupant, but Remus knew it would be against his better judgement to allow them to see either of them. These were dangerous times, and it never did well to take too many risks in one day.

Remus turned his attention down to the beach, where Padfoot still galloped carefree along the seashore. With all his might, he didn’t want to have to bring this brief moment of freedom to an end. But he had chosen this particular beach for its seclusion. And the situation was too precarious to allow them to stay once others had arrived to enjoy it. Remus felt a stab of irritation as he watched the Muggle family in the distance; a mother and father, a cluster of excited children, all laughing without a care in the world as they made their way towards the beach. 

It hardly seemed fair.

Reluctantly, Remus put his fingers to his mouth and let out a sharp whistle. On the beach far below, Sirius paused in the surf, his keen canine ears pricking up at the noise. He looked up to Remus, understanding instantly that something was amiss. With one last, quick glance at the sea, Padfoot turned away, ran across the sand and trotted back up the hill. 

As the black speck of fur grew closer and morphed once more into the familiar sight of the shaggy black dog, Remus couldn’t help but smile. Padfoot loped towards him, his tongue lolling out as he panted heavily. He paused a few metres away and let out an almighty shake of his thick, shaggy coat. Drops of seawater sprayed everywhere, narrowly missing Remus.

A moment later, the dog was gone, disappeared amidst the tall, grassy shrubs which littered the hillside. As Sirius took his human form once more, Remus was somewhat startled by the dramatic change which had come over his friend. 

Gone was the previous pallor of his face, his hollow cheeks now flushed a deep shade of healthy pink with the freshness of the wind. His usually dull, grey eyes sparkled silver in the sunlight, and he was grinning. A true, ear-to-ear grin, the likes of which, before today, Remus could only recall from distant teenage memories.

His hair and clothes were damp from the sea, sprinkled with a dusting of sand and salt. It must have been uncomfortable, not that anyone would have guessed it from the sheer happiness practically radiating off of every inch of Sirius.

“Here,” said Remus, conjuring a towel with his wand and holding it out to him. “Dry yourself off, you’ll catch cold” 

“In this sun, you mean?” Sirius retorted through panted breaths, but he took the towel nevertheless. He slung it loosely around his shoulders as he all but collapsed down onto the blanket beside Remus. 

He leaned back with all his weight on his spindly arms, tilting his head back into the full force of the sun’s rays. Flyaway strands of his long, black hair caught in the light breeze fluttered freely around his face. He took a deep, shuddering breath, closed his eyes and smiled. 

After a few minutes of blissful silence broken only by the distant sound of the waves and the seagulls, Sirius sat forward once more and pulled his knees up to his chest, staring down at the grass beneath them.

"Thanks," he said, pulling the towel a little tighter around his shoulders as a fresh gust of coastal wind brushed over them. "Thank you, truly" 

"It's only a towel," said Remus, grinning.

"Not the towel, you prat" Sirius laughed as he knocked Remus playfully on the arm. That deep bark of a laugh which Remus hadn't heard in so many months. "I meant for this. I- I needed it" 

"I know" Remus replied as he turned to gaze out at the water shimmering before them. He looked to his side and took in once again the remarkable transformation that their escapade, the fruit of his own split-second bout of recklessness, had brought over Sirius. It was really quite something to behold. "Perhaps we should do it again, sometime" 

Sirius chuckled. "And risk the wrath of Mad-Eye?"

"I don't seem to recall you ever paying much attention to the opinions of those in authority" Remus remarked with a smirk.

Sirius shrugged thoughtfully. 

"Can't argue with that" he said, returning the smirk. "No point in starting now then, is there? Old habits die hard, after all" 

There the two friends remained for a good while longer, sat atop the grassy hill overlooking the beach whilst the summer sun dried Sirius off as it rose, ever-higher, into the sky above them. The sunrise of another day, bringing with is fresh promise, fresh opportunities. Fresh hope.

Sirius was right - they really should do this again sometime. 

-16th June 1996

**Author's Note:**

> This is something slightly different from the sort of stories I usually write, but the idea sparked in my mind this morning and quite simply refused to go away. And so here it is, the fruits of my imagination written out in full for your enjoyment. Feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments. 
> 
> Chat to me on Tumblr :) - https://mariekavanagh.tumblr.com/


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